The maid modestly displayed her skill on a long mended tear in the lace of the star’s second-act costume.
“Vinnie!” exclaimed Miss Dover, ecstatically. “Why, it’s wonderful! I can scarcely find the place! Where did you ever learn to sew like that?” She smiled gratefully, and sank down before her triple mirrors.
“Why, I could always sew fairly well, Miss Dover,” answered Vinnie. She began deftly to take down her mistress’s hair. “But just before I came to you, I did work a while in a kind of gown shop, and they had all kinds of fine mending to do.”
Sarah Dover mumbled as she plastered her face vigorously with rose-scented cold-cream. “Oh, Vinnie, don’t forget about those two new switches. I want to lengthen my braids. Some friends of mine have a box to-night, and I want to look particularly well.”
Vinnie, after attaching the switches, gave one shrewd look, then carelessly flung a braid round Miss Dover’s head.
“Fine, Vinnie! Leave it that way; it’s just too catchy for anything. Stick in this rose here. Why, Vinnie, I knew you could do nails beautifully, but I had no idea you could dress hair like that. You’re as good as a professional. Lovely!”
Sarah Dover inspected her make-up with smiling satisfaction; then automatically giving the final dusting with her powder-puff, she rose. Vinnie hurried her into her costume gown.
As the star held out her hand for Vinnie to button the glove, a sudden recollection made her say abstractedly:
“I wonder who that was I heard reading those lines last night. Must have been studying some part. Didn’t sound like any voice in the company, though. Here, Vinnie, you’re buttoning that glove all wrong! Don’t be so nervous, my dear; there’s plenty of time. What’s the matter with you to-night?”
Several days later Miss Dover entered the dressing-room with a puzzled smile on her face.